


What I Wouldn't Do

by Defira



Series: In Her Shadows [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, F/F, Female Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Female Character, Sexual Harassment, Shower Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaesa Willsaam still struggles with the knowledge that she has defected to the Empire, even after being betrayed by her Jedi Master. Luckily, Vette is around to take her under her wing and teach her the finer points about surviving under the watchful eyes of the Sith without sacrificing hope- or a sense of humour. </p><p>But being a Sith does not mean giving up your heart- or standing by silently in the face of oppression and violence. For Jaesa, being a Sith might mean having the courage to take what she desires. </p><p>Set on Nar Shaddaa after Vette's personal mission. Mild spoilers for the Sith Warrior storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The music pulsed loudly, a deep rumble that shivered up through their feet accompanied by high pitched female voices keening in harmony. It was night time, apparently, but it was so bright as to be almost indistinguishable from the day; Jaesa strained her neck trying to find the sky between the towering spires, and only gave herself vertigo for her troubles. There was nothing but steel and smoke and neon in every direction- for all she knew, she could have been looking a few feet from the surface or a mile from the surface. 

Even when she closed her eyes, the lights burned bright against the inside of her eyelids. 

Vette’s hand closed around her upper arm. “Look, there’s Taunt!” she said excitedly, almost shouting to be heard over the thumping of the music. She waved wildly, jumping up onto her toes as she dragged Jaesa forward, heading towards the door of the club. Jaesa couldn’t help but glance up at the lurid orange neon figure looming above them, the crude shape of a shapely woman dancing provocatively above them. There were tattered posters all over the lower reaches of the walls, plastered one over the other in some sort of demented jigsaw puzzle. Most of them were promoting the wonders of various gambling establishments; some of them were propaganda for The Exchange. She felt her cheeks heat when she spotted the few sexually explicit ones among their number, and looked instead to where Vette was pointing.

There was a group of Twi’leks standing to the side of the club doors, and a slender red skinned beauty was returning Vette’s greeting just as enthusiastically, jumping up and down on the spot as she gestured them over. Vette wove rapidly through the crowd, seemingly at ease with the unruly behaviour and the occasional lecherous comment thrown their way. When they drew close enough, Taunt laughed and held her arms open, obviously well accustomed to the way Vette launched herself at her so enthusiastically. The two women spun in a circle, arms tight around one another while the two men looked on indulgently. Jaesa stood to the side, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. 

Stars, where was the calm and self-assured young woman she’d been six months ago? Well, that girl probably wouldn’t believe her if she sat her down and told her half the things she’d seen and experienced in the short time she’d been apprenticed to Lord Dara. So at least she had that over her old self. 

Vette and Taunt pulled apart at last, laughing and smiling, touching with such affection that Jaesa felt a small tug in her belly that seemed somewhat like jealousy. “It’s so good to see you guys again,” Vette said warmly, the joy spilling out of her. It was such a beautiful sight, and Jaesa couldn’t help but smile; there was such pure love and happiness in her spirit, she hardly had to use her gift to sense it. 

“We thought you’d gone on your merry way,” one of the men said, speaking Basic with a heavy accent. He had to shout to be heard over the music blaring from the open doors.

“Yeah, didn’t your boss want to head off pretty quick?” Taunt asked, her voice a pleasantly husky drawl. “Not that I’m complaining about seeing you again so soon.”

“Tahrin is following up a lead in the Industrial Sector,” Vette said candidly, hugging both the men quickly. “She took Captain Pout with her and gave the rest of us the night off.”

“Stoopa,” the big Twi’lek muttered, winking straight faced at Jaesa when she glanced at him. 

Taunt cocked her head to the side. “Seriously? A Sith Lord who offers time off? Where do we sign up?”

The four Twi’leks laughed, as if it were some kind of inside joke, and Jaesa fought the urge to shuffle her feet or fiddle with her hair. Thankfully she was spared any further awkwardness when a screech sounded off to the left, and with the roar of an engine, a speeder went soaring over so low that they all ducked out of reflex. Choking on the exhaust fumes that spewed out in the speeder’s wake, they ducked again when they heard shouts and blaster fire and a second speeder went rocketing after the first. 

For a moment only stunned silence hung over the crowd, the club pulsing behind them blissfully unaware of the antics happening on the boardwalk outside. Then someone hollered a filthy joke, and people laughed, and the incident was already forgotten, just another wild act of violence and anarchy in a city that thrived on it. Jaesa fanned the smoke away from her face, wiping away the water in her eyes were the worst of it had burned. And of course Vette chose to turn back to her in that moment, while her face was red and her eyes were leaking everywhere and her hair was probably a mess from the speeder fans. Thankfully if she noticed her tragic appearance she didn’t comment on it, but her eyes were sparkling as they landed on her. Teasing or not, it was a breathtaking sight. 

“Oh I almost forgot! I brought a friend!” She snatched up Jaesa’s hand again and dragged her closer, pulling her into the circle. “This is my gang- I ran with them for a while before I did that whole shock collar gig.”

“You never were one to just bite your tongue,” the blue male said, crossing his arms as if in challenge. Vette punched him in the arm. 

“This jerk is Flash,” she said to Jaesa, indicating the man she’d just punched; he tipped his head in greeting. “The big buy is Plasmajack, and this sweetheart is Taunt.”

“We’re like one big dysfunctional Twi’lek family,” Taunt said, her lips twisting in a smirk. Her eyes were dancing warmly though, so Jaesa took it to be some sort of compliment. “Well Vette, are you gonna introduce us to your friend, or are we gonna stand outside staring all night?”

Vette poked her tongue at her, and then threw her hands in the air. “My dear criminal kin,” she announced grandly, bowing just as extravagantly, “it is my very great pleasure to introduce Jaesa Willsaam, fallen Jedi and underworld newbie.”

Jaesa’s face flamed. “Vette!” she spluttered, glancing desperately over her shoulder. “Should you really be announcing to the world that I’m a Jedi?”

“This is Nar Shaddaa, sweetheart,” Taunt said with a wry smile, hip cocked with her hand planted on the curve. It accentuated the slender shape of her body, and there were more than a few eyes cast in their direction. “Jedi’s vanilla here. No one cares what you are as long as your credits are good and you can back your words up with your gun- or blade, I suppose, in your case.”

“She’s Tahrin’s apprentice,” Vette said, slinging her arm over Jaesa’s shoulders. She was warm, and she was soft, and Jaesa had the desperate urge to just rest her head on Vette’s arm. “Tahrin did that strange thing of hers where she acts like she’s some emotionless robot but then stares at you with puppy eyes until you give up and agree to join her, and bam! We got ourselves a little fallen Jedi!”

“I am not a fallen Jedi, I am a Sith,” Jaesa said, trying not to stammer. She tried not to think of the distinction, tried not to get into semantics with herself, because in all honestly she could not decide which title induced more guilt- that she had somehow fallen from grace and into darkness, or that she had become that which she had been encouraged to fear and despise most. It usually ended with her reminding herself of the goodness she had sensed in Tahrin on their first meeting, the fierce sense of justice and the unbending determination and loyalty that governed her actions. Tahrin was unflinching in her sense of identity, and if her Lord and Master could embrace the title of Sith so stalwartly, then so would she. 

“You’re neither tonight,” Taunt said, smiling. “Tonight is our last chance to have some fun before you get dragged off in relentless duty to the Empire, so we’re gonna make the most of it.”


	2. Chapter 2

With a wink she turned and headed into the dark of the club, into the pulsing music and smoke and flashing lights. The two men followed after her a moment later. 

When Vette took a step forward, her arm still tight across Jaesa’s shoulders, Jaesa dug her feet in for a second. They stumbled, and bumped heads. “What’s your problem, honey?” Vette said irritably, rubbing at the spot on her forehead. 

Jaesa bit her tongue to keep in the stream of apologies that threatened to bubble forth. “I can go back to the ship,” she said hesitantly. “I shouldn’t really be here. This is a night for you and your friends.”

Vette’s expression softened. “Well then isn’t it convenient that _you’re_ my friend too now?”

“That’s not what I-”

“No buts,” Vette said, tightening her arm and hugging her close, her lips brushing against her brow for the briefest second in what could have been considered a kiss if she closed her eyes and wished particularly hard. “Well, except for our fine butts when we get out on the dance floor. You know what I’m saying?”

“I’ve never been to a nightclub before.”

“ _Never?_ ” Vette looked scandalised. 

Jaesa smiled wryly. “It’s not exactly sanctioned activity for up and coming young Jedi. It’s just frivolity and temptation and violence according to my teachers.”

“Well shit, I’d hate to hear what Tahrin thinks of nightclubs too, come to think of it. Thinking of that much fun in one place would probably give her an aneurysm.”

Jaesa giggled despite herself. “You shouldn’t talk about our Master that way.”

“She’s a big girl, I’m sure she’ll get over it. Who knows, she might even smile!”

“She smiles more often than you think, you know.”

“Stars above, if she keeps this up her face might crack from the pressure.”

Vette was lighter now with the business with Cada Bliss behind her, Jaesa realised. She had always been bubbly, always ready with a smile and a joke and a kind word, but now it was different. It was like a weight had been lifted from her, and she was truly smiling for herself for once, and not just as a survival instinct.

The moment stretched between them, and there was so much joy in Vette that it made Jaesa’s skin tingle from the proximity. It was so strange to stand there in a crowd of loud, violent aliens, amidst the noise and clamour of Nar Shaddaa, and feel like they were the only two people on the face of the moon. Vette’s smile changed; it softened, her eyes curious and Jaesa told herself that it was perfectly acceptable to find herself staring at the Twi’leks lips, because her smile was so contagious after all, and it wasn’t a bad thing to see her friend so happy…

“Come on,” Vette said finally, breaking the trance Jaesa had sunk into. She tugged her forward. “The others will be wondering where we’ve gotten to.” 

If Jaesa had thought the music was loud from the outside of the club, it was nothing compared to the onslaught of sound when they crossed over the threshold. It was ridiculously loud, rumbling up through her feet, vibrating through her skin; she couldn’t even think properly without the music barraging her. It wasn’t as smoky inside as she’d thought, and after a few moments of blinking helplessly at the flashing lights, her eyes began to adjust to the murk.

“They’ve got a table over there,” Vette shouted, leaning in close to make sure she could be heard. She took Jaesa by the hand and snaked her way through the crowded club, trailing the younger woman behind her. 

A group of men eyed them as they passed, one of them reaching out to touch Vette’s arm. “Hey Twi’lek,” he shouted, and she slapped his hand away. “Where’d you get the clothes from, baby? You steal them? Don’t look right on you, eh.”

“Fuck off,” she called, smiling sweetly over her shoulder as she kept walking.

“Slut. Take it off!”

Jaesa’s face was burning and adrenalin was pumping through her, but Vette just ignored them. “Vette, those men-”

“Completely normal,” Vette replied, shouting over her shoulder so she could be heard. “I’m a Twi’lek, and people have certain ideas about what Twi’leks should be. Or do, as the case may be.”

“That’s awful!”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. I spent most of my life living according to the whims of assholes like that.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean that you should just accept it,” Jaesa said, glaring over her shoulder at the men. They’d already forgotten them, laughing and gesturing lewdly at other women in the club. Jaesa bit her lip at the flare of anger that surged through her. “It isn’t right.”

Vette was looking at her when she looked back. “Look at you, getting all riled up on my behalf,” the Twi’lek said with a grin. “Damn near took my hand off with your squeezing. Makes a girl’s heart flutter, seeing all that righteous indignation on account of her.” 

Taunt and Plasmajack where in a booth towards the back, and Flash was up at the bar; Vette slid into the booth opposite, and Jaesa climbed in after her, wrinkling her nose when she found the seat to be sticky beneath her fingers. Likewise, the table between them had ring marks, old drinks spills that had never been wiped away, and the occasional scorch mark that could have been from a blaster or a lightsaber or even from a pipe set aside too casually. Or a million things in between. This was Nar Shaddaa, after all, where everything was available for a price.

She wrinkled her nose again. 

“Does this place do food?” Vette shouted, settling herself in.

Plasmajack shook his head and grimaced.

“There’s a bar over in Club Vertica that apparently serves good food,” Taunt said, propping her boots up on the low table. “You could head there in a bit.”

The larger male made a crass sound with his lips and muttered something in Twi’leki that sounded like an insult, but she wasn’t proficient in Twi’lek slang to know for sure. Judging by the way Taunt reached across and punched him in the bicep

“That place wasn’t even serving real Rycrit,” Flash said, already holding a drink in his hand as he sat down on the other side of Taunt. “It said it was on the menu, but I know Rycrit, and that wasn’t it.”

Taunt shrugged as she accepted the drink he handed her. “Your gamble, then,” she yelled to Vette. 

Vette made a look of disgust. “We’ll wait until we get back to the ship then.” She gestured towards the bar, holding up two fingers when she caught the attention of one of the bartenders. He nodded and she grinned, winking at Jaesa. “So’d you get in touch with anyone back home?”

Taunt nodded, running her finger over the rim of her glass. “We didn’t make it huge news, because we don’t exactly want to invite trouble on the way home, but yeah. The Star will have a good home on Ryloth. Your boss did a good thing there.”

Jaesa grinned in unison with Vette. “She does that, even if she’d be the last one to accept such praise,” Jaesa said, and Vette laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “She’s a good person at heart.”

“Your boss is weird,” Flash said.

“I ain’t debating that,” Vette said. “That’s an argument I will lose resoundingly. Tahrin’s sweet, once you get to know her and get past the apocalyptic bunker she’s buried her heart in, but she’s an oddball for sure.”

The bartender brought over their drinks, something so vividly pink that it seemed to glow under the lights of the club. Jaesa reluctantly accepted hers when it was passed to her, and put it up to her lips carefully. Vette threw hers back with abandon; when the Twi’lek didn’t instantly drop dead, Jaesa took a quick sip.

Her face twisted up immediately as she recoiled from the tangy drink. “What the- what is even in this?” she spluttered, her face flushing when the others burst out laughing.

“It’s best if you don’t know, sweetness,” Taunt said. “Swallow it in one hit, it doesn’t taste so bad. And the buzz will come faster.”

As Jaesa made her second attempt at the drink, Flash said to Vette “So what is your boss actually doing over in the Industrial Sector? That’s dangerous territory.”

“I think she’s hunting down something to do with the Revanites,” Vette shouted over the music. “And I don’t know if you’d noticed, but my boss is kinda a dangerous lady. She’ll be fine.”

“What, that old cult?” Taunt said, dropping her empty glass on the table, a hint of condensation still frosting the outside. “She doesn’t seem like the type to fall in with ghost stories.”

“It’s not ghost stories, we met a whole bunch of them on Dromund Kaas,” Vette said. “Buncha crazies living up in the jungle in tents. I think something about them got to her, but she never talks about it.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the chatty type.”

“You’d be right there,” Vette said with a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” came a voice that set the hairs on the back of Jaesa’s neck on end.


	3. Chapter 3

The same group of creeps from before were staring at them lecherously, crowded around the booth. Mostly human, with a Mirialan at the back. Two of the humans wore insignia that marked them as Mandalorians.

“What do you want,” Taunt said coldly. Flash and Plasmajack already had their hands on their belts, glancing at each other as their fingers edged towards their blasters.

“We don’t want no trouble,” one of them said, smiling too broadly, swaggering forward and planting his feet widely, hands on his hips. “Just being friendly now, aren’t we?”

“Hey baby, you should dance for us,” one of the others said, leaning over the back of the booth, and reaching for Vette’s head piece. “You can leave this on.”

“Fuck off,” Vette said tiredly. 

“I’ve got credits. I’ll give you triple if the red one dances with you.”

“The answer is still no, meatbag.”

“Come on baby, why you gotta be like that? That’s a lot of money to you people-”

“The lady said no,” Flash said angrily, gaze flicking between the mercenary standing by the table and the one trying to fondle Vette. Jaesa could see his fingers twitching, as if he couldn’t quite justify attacking the Mandalorian- but he was close to it. 

“She ain’t no lady,” another said, lurching in beside his friend. “She’s just a slut in some stolen clothes.” Saying that, he reached over and grabbed her by the tentacles that draped elegantly down from her head- Jaesa had never thought to ask for the name of them.

For the next few moments, time slowed down to glacial speed- each second felt like it was stretching out into the length of a year. As the brute yanked on Vette’s head, her face twisted in an expression of agony and shock, and her back arched in pain. The men laughed, the cruel sound ringing in Jaesa’s ears as sharply as if they’d slapped her. Flash reached for his gun, but the Mandalorian was faster, shooting the Twi’lek’s hand and laughing as he did it.

Taunt had her feet under the table and then she was flipping it, kicking it up and into the face of the mercenary, while Plasmajack tackled the closest one to the ground, body slamming the hapless fool into unconsciousness. 

There were tears on Vette’s face as she reached up to claw at the man grabbing her, and there was blood as Flash sat dazed in the seat opposite. There was laughter, and cruelty and violence in the air.

It all crystallized into a moment of pure and utter hate. 

Jaesa saw red- quite literally. She knew all about channelling the power of her rage and how to let it consume her; Tahrin had taught her much in these last few months. But she had never had an occasion where she felt the burning need to destroy and maim and hurt as she did now. She wanted to make them scream in agony, and beg for mercy, and wet themselves from fear. Tahrin had counselled her in preparation for this moment, for the overwhelming swell of hate and rage, but no warnings could do it justice. 

She wanted them to know how small and pitiable they were, that they were nothing in comparison to her.

She wanted them to know that she was the monster in the shadows.

She didn’t make a sound as she came to her feet; interestingly, she couldn’t hear anything either, just a high pitched buzzing in her ears. The men had paid her no heed before now, just a small little girl in group of better targets. They looked at her now, and something in her expression made the smiles falter on their faces.

“What-”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish the question. She picked him up as if he were no heavier than a dinner plate, and hurled him across the club and into the packed dance floor. Before any one had a chance to process the attack, she had another suspended in the air, invisible bands of steel twisting around his neck and choking him. 

“The bitch is a Sith!”

For once that felt about right.

She heard a blaster go off, felt the intent behind the shot, and slapped it out of the air; she felt the bite of the laser bolt singeing her palm, but that was a concern for another time. 

There were still at least three of them, and she had no idea whether Taunt and Plasmajack had dealt with the other Mandalorian; she had to hope they would be okay without her assistance. 

She vaulted over the booth, clipping one of them in the face with her boot as she sailed past, and launching the idiot she’d strangled off in the direction of the first. She could hear the screaming now, the shouts, and realised that people were stampeding to get out of the club or trying to get closer to watch the proceedings. It was only a matter of time now before the bouncers were called, or before some opportunistic asshole decided to throw their lot in for fun. 

She landed on the table in the next booth, breaking a glass with her boot and then kicking the shards at the men with a sweep of her foot. They shouted and shielded their eyes, and she took the opportunity to latch onto a nearby stool with a Force Pull and slam it into the closest one’s temple. As he went down she silently counted to herself _two left_. 

There was another shot of blaster fire, and she snarled and lashed out at it, sending it careening into the roof instead. A second one hit her in the shoulder and she staggered back a step, the table wobbling under her. 

One of them took advantage of her momentary loss of concentration and tackled her around the legs, sending them both slamming into the next booth. Jaesa grunted in pain as something crunched beneath her, stabbing into her, but she didn’t have time to stop and acknowledge the pain. Levering herself up onto her elbows, she kicked at her attacker, sending him flying into the roof. He hit with a bang that echoed even over the rumble of the music, and plummeted back down with a large chunk of the ceiling following. 

Holding her breath, Jaesa rolled quickly out of the way, well aware that there was at least one other still standing, and possibly more. There was a colossal crash as her attacker smashed into the ground, the chunks of concrete and plaster raining down on top of him. He, at least, was definitely not a threat. 

Someone kicked her in the back before she could regain her feet; she did her best to spin and sweep him off his feet in turn, but he was clearly expecting that. His next kick winded her, and he rolled her onto her stomach, kneeling astride her to stop her from rising.

It was the second Mandalorian. “Fuck you, you stupid Sith bitch,” he snarled, whipping his fist back and punching her in the jaw. She choked on the pain, blood in her mouth- had she bitten her tongue?- and when he drew back his arm to do it again, she blocked him, catching his fist in her palm. 

It hurt. Oh stars did it _hurt_. He was twice her size, at least, and looked like a man used to a hard and violent life. His muscles bulged in his arm as she held him in place, and she felt it burning all the way from her wrist to her shoulder. 

He grunted in surprise, straining against her hold- he clearly hadn’t expected her to match him, let alone overpower him. Slowly, just to draw out the horror for him- and also because she wasn’t strong enough to do it quickly- she began to twist his wrist, until the angle became excruciating for him and he had to either climb off her or let her break his arm. She could see the agony in his eyes, the conflict in his face as he tried to fight her. He didn’t want to concede any ground to her.

So she broke his arm. 

His roar of pain echoed through the club, and to her frustration it only seemed to enrage him, not weaken him. They struggled for control, she trying to tip him off her and he doing his best to bring his other arm down to throttle her. He got as far as getting his hand onto her throat, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise.

There was another blaster shot, so close she could smell the burn from the optical cavity of a cheap gun. The Mandalorian slumped forward, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell; she let out a discomforted oomph as he all but crushed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Panting, adrenalin seething through her, she stared up at the roof; the music was still throbbing in the air, the club patrons carrying on regardless of the anarchy in their midst. She was bleeding, she knew, and her wounds would start aching in a few minutes once the excitement wore away; taking a deep breath she shoved at the unconscious human and managed to wriggle her way out from under him. 

As she did so, she noticed the gaping hole in the back of his head, the edges black and singed; her stomach turned over and she looked away quickly, fighting back the urge to vomit. 

Glancing around, she saw a clear space around her where the other patrons had apparently deemed unsafe to step. The music played on, oblivious. Nearby, Taunt was standing with a bloodied nose, the blaster in her hand still aimed at the dead Mandalorian. 

“You okay?” she called shakily.

Jaesa nodded, then winced. “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

“Oh, dandy. You need a hand?”

The Twi’lek came forward and kicked aside the body, giving Jaesa a hand getting up. “You’re bleeding,” Taunt said.

“So are you,” Jaesa pointed out, struggling to breathe evenly as the pain wrapped itself around her chest like iron bars. 

Her lips moved in the ghost of a smile. “Fair call,” she said. 

She helped her to move away from the body and the wreckage, hissing at the gaping bystanders who drew too close. Flash was sitting up in the booth where she’d last seen him, his blue skin pale and his eyes closed. If not for the obvious rise and fall of his chest and the lines of pain around his eyes, she might have thought the worst.

“You’d think they’d never seen a bar fight before,” Taunt snapped, clearly meaning the other patrons. 

Jaesa wasn’t listening though, her gaze fixed upon Vette, a cry of horror bubbling up in her throat when she saw her lying still and silent on the seat. 

“Is she okay?” she panted, dropping to her knees beside the booth where Vette lay. She still couldn’t breathe properly, but both that and the pain seemed rather distant at the moment, unimportant.

Taunt’s lips twisted unhappily as she knelt down beside her. “Lekku are very sensitive, and that asshole knew that. It’s like…” She visibly struggled for a moment, angry tears welling in her eyes. “It’s like, as if someone reached into your pretty little human head and squeezed hard on your brain. It’s agony, and I’ve heard stories about Twi’leks who died from the pain, or were left simple afterwards because of the damage done.”

Jaesa felt her stomach drop into her shoes. “But she’s gonna be okay, right?” 

“You assholes are talking far too loud,” Vette slurred, turning her face away from them and into the seat. Jaesa couldn’t help but wince, knowing how disturbingly sticky the plastic was. 

“That should be answer enough for you,” the other woman said.

Plasmajack wandered back into view, dragging the other Mandalorian behind him by his foot. He left him lying beside his deceased comrade, and Jaesa looked away; she didn’t have the heart to ask whether he was dead or alive. The Twi’lek winked at her as he passed, setting himself down carefully beside Flash who stirred at the disturbance. 

He cracked open an eye and took in the scene with blurry, pain hazed eyes. “For a newbie she’s got a good amount of bite in her,” Flash said, panting shallowly as Plasmajack patiently wrapped up his ruined hand. 

“I think we were the newbies in that one, Flash,” Taunt said wearily. “It took four of us to take down two- she took the rest all by herself.” She sighed. “Fuck, this place always used to be good at weeding out the rabble. Guess we’ll be heading somewhere else in the future.”

“Go back to Ryloth,” Vette mumbled loudly.

“I meant nightclubs, you ass.”

“You’re shouting again.”

Jaesa, still sitting on the floor beside the booth, tentatively reached out a hand and took Vette’s within her fingers. She was trembling, but she latched on fiercely, and Jaesa felt a fierce swell of protectiveness towards her. To see her friend reduced to such a state, to have the partying continue on around them as if the attempted sexual assault of women was a normal part of the evening. As if having a Sith apprentice decimate half of the club was an acceptable risk you took when you went dancing. 

But this was Nar Shaddaa, home of vice and corruption and violence- for all she knew this probably _was_ a normal evening here.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” she asked quietly, turning back to Taunt.

The Twi’lek waved a hand tiredly. “Oh yeah, we’ve got an apartment about ten minutes from here, we’ll be fine. Granted it’s shit, but at least it’s somewhere to go and crash after a big night.” She ran a hand over her face, grimacing when she saw the blood smear on her palm. “What about you? You guys need a hand?”

It was Jaesa’s turn to wave her off. “We’ll be fine. We’ve got a med bay back on the ship. As long as I can get her to a speeder, I can get her back without any worries.”

“You don’t want to holo your boss?”

Her stomach lurched uncomfortably into her throat. Stars, she hadn’t even considered what Lord Tahrin would make of this mess. Would she be in trouble with her master? “It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to distract her while she’s in dangerous territory. We don’t need to cause her extra worry.”

“Alright then. Let’s get out of here before someone decides to start anything else.”

Jaesa nodded and rose up onto her knees, leaning over Vette. “Hey,” she whispered gently. “We’re gonna get out of here. Do you want me to help you up?”

Vette cracked open an eye and gazed up at her blearily; Jaesa’s heart ached to see the pain in her beautiful face. “You’re hurt,” Vette whispered. 

Jaesa smiled softly. “They’re hurt more, trust me.”

Vette closed her eyes and returned the smile. “Good,” she said. She took a deep breath and tensed, then levered herself into a sitting position. She panted from the effort, her head hanging down towards her chest, before she muttered “I may need some help with this.” 

Jaesa slipped her arm underneath hers, helping her to her feet. The three Twi’leks followed after them, the crowd parting skittishly as they all passed. They must have looked a sight- blood splattered and burnt, and Jaesa had enough violence still roiling around in her that the first person stupid enough to stop them would be levelled to dust. It must have shown on her face, because nobody got in their way. 

Plasmajack helped her to get Vette into the speeder, and Taunt hugged them both farewell. Her arms tightened painfully around Jaesa momentarily as she whispered “You take care of my girl, okay? She deserves better than this shit. If your boss doesn’t treat her right, you call me. Promise?”

She swallowed down the pain that the pressure around her chest caused. “I promise,” she said softly. 

She climbed into the speeder beside Vette, tucking her up against her side. She waved goodbye to the three Twi’leks as the programming took hold and launched the rickety craft into the air, watching them until they veered around a corner and blocked them from sight. It was almost enough to make her laugh- the first people she’d been allowed to spend time with since her days in as a padawan in the Jedi Temple, and she’d gotten into a violent bar brawl that had ended in death. It was the sort of wild and lawless tales the Masters had told them of the Sith, stories of men and women with no inhibitions, no control over themselves or their emotions. She wondered what she would say to those Masters now, had she a chance to face them. What she would say to the malleable padawans, soaking up every word offered to them as truth. 

She had once seen the universe through their eyes- a narrow view, sheltered and naïve. 

She knew better now.

The speeder shuddered to a halt on the landing pad outside the space port, and Jaesa jumped out and ran around to help Vette out of her seat. The Twi’lek was weak on her feet, and fell gratefully into her open arms.

“’m sorry you had to see that,” Vette mumbled, resting her head on her shoulder. 

“Never apologise for that,” Jaesa said instantly, her arm tightening around the Twi’lek to help keep her on her feet. She tried not to notice the curve of her breast beneath her fingers, but it was impossible; she was just grateful at least that Vette couldn’t see the flush of colour in her cheeks instead. 

They got a few funny looks as they crossed through the plaza at the space port, but not many- this moon was known for violence and anarchy, after all, and the sight of a few injured people fleeing towards the relative safety of a ship wasn’t really that uncommon. Jaesa fumbled in her pocket for the swipe card to get them into the right hangar, panicking for a moment that it had fallen out during the fight and gone unnoticed, before she found it in her back pocket and breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

They rode up the elevator in silence, Vette taking advantage of the wall and leaning against it with eyes closed. When the doors hissed open on to their hangar, Vette smiled weakly at her. As Jaesa reached for her again to help her walk, Vette murmured “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The hangar was deserted, and Tahrin’s ship was the only one in the area. It was nice to be away from prying eyes at last. 

It was a little awkward going up the ramp to the door, the slope making their height difference more awkward than normal. She managed to punch in the code to let them in, letting out a shaky breath when the door hissed open. She didn’t realise how much she had come to think of this place as home.

Jaesa dragged Vette on board, whispering encouragingly to her. As they entered the common area, Pierce wandered out from the direction of the cargo hold, where Tahrin had converted most of the space into a sort of personal gym. He’d stripped down to a pair of pants and nothing else, a towel resting around his neck and sweat soaking his torso. He paused and cocked an eyebrow at them.

“What the fuck happened to you lot?” he asked, grabbing at the towel and wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“Bar fight,” Jaesa said simply, defiantly; she raised her chin at him, as if daring him to question her further. 

He stared at her for a moment, taking in the injuries both of them bore, the blood dripping from Jaesa’s chin, and then chuckled. “Hope you gave ‘em a good run,” he said, hanging the towel back around his neck. “Need any help?”

“We’ve got this,” she said, a rush of adrenalin and relief rushing through her. She hadn’t really meant to challenge him, however small the challenge, but it felt good for him to acknowledge her and respect her leadership. For once she didn’t just feel like she was being babysat by the rest of the crew. 

He shrugged. “No worries,” he said, heading back down to the cargo hold. “Just yell if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” she said vaguely, helping Vette towards the med bay.


	5. Chapter 5

Vette drooped willingly onto the first bed before Jaesa could lower her down gently, curling up and hugging herself as she trembled. The adrenalin had faded now, and Jaesa could feel every ache and bruise and cut keenly; her feet seemed to be conspiring against her, because she stumbled slightly as she headed for the supply vault.

“You’re hurt,” Vette mumbled.

Jaesa gritted her teeth. “You’re hurt more,” she said, pulling open the metal cabinet. “What can I give you to help?”

“Nothing.”

Surprised at the response, Jaesa glared over her shoulder at her. “Being petulant doesn’t help anyone, Vette. I’m trying to help you. I’ll look after myself when you’re okay.”

“Not really anything you can do to help,” she mumbled. “Not being petulant. It’s just like… a really super bad headache.”

Jaesa hesitated, her expression softening. “So there’s nothing I can do to help?” she asked softly.

“You could dim the lights maybe. The brightness hurts.”

Obediently, Jaesa limped over to the light pad and brushed her fingers over it, bringing the lights down to a much lower intensity. Vette was watching her, head resting on one of her arms. “You should look after yourself,” Vette said. “You’re still bleeding.”

“No I’m not,” Jaesa said, lifting a hand to her lip. It hurt, and she winced, but the blood there was sticky and thick, not fresh and wet.

“Not there,” Vette grumbled, struggling into a sitting position. Jaesa rushed forward, a protest bubbling to her lips but Vette swatted her hands away. “I’m not dying, stop your fussing. If you bleed to death I’m the one that has to explain that to Tahrin, and I don’t fancy that. Here, sit down.”

Somewhat chastised, Jaesa sat on the very edge of the bed, trying not to tense when she felt the Twi’leks fingers brushing over her lower back. A small touch, so simple, and yet so intoxicating. “Did you get stabbed?” Vette asked, her fingers gentle- up until the moment they touched a spot on her back that burned like fire. Jaesa hissed in a breath and recoiled, but Vette wrapped her hand over her hip and held her on the bed. “What the hell did you do?”

Jaesa racked her brains to remember the fight in enough detail. “There was something on the ground,” she said slowly. “It might have been a broken glass.”

“What were you doing on the ground?”

“Throwing a guy into the roof.”

“ _Into_ the roof? Did he come back down?”

“Eventually.”

Vette chuckled softly then broke off on a slight gasp. Jaesa looked over her shoulder with a worried expression. “Vette, you shouldn’t-”

She squeezed her warningly around the hip. “No buts,” she said. “I believe I’ve already said that once tonight, young lady- I don’t want there to be any buts unless it’s dancing butts.”

Jaesa felt her cheeks colour again.

“Now grab some bacta patches or kolto or whatever Captain Pouts has stocked the cabinet with. Let’s get you patched up before you pass out.”

Feeling somewhat like she was dragging a non-existent tail between her legs, Jaesa limped over to the supply vault and dug out a handful of patches. For good measure she took a bottle of the salve as well, and was pleased to see a small vial of the drinking bacta in the back. 

“We’ll make a deal,” she said, holding out the vial to Vette. “You drink this for your head, and I’ll let you look at my wounds.”

Vette scowled at her. “Well look at you, being all bossy and manipulative,” she said, but there was no malice in her tone. “You’ve been taking too many Sith lessons from Tahrin.”

Jaesa didn’t say anything, just continued to hold out the vial. Vette scowled further and snatched it from her, uncapping and swallowing it in one go. She grimaced and poked out her tongue. “Doesn’t have the nicest flavour, I’ll admit.”

“Neither did that rubbish you made me drink at the club,” Jaesa said, sitting down again and laying out the medical supplies. 

Vette’s expression gentled. “I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured at all,” she said. “You didn’t have to drink it if you didn’t want to.”

“Oh, I know that, it’s just…” She fumbled over the words. “You’re the first proper friend I’ve had in a long time, and I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t embarrass me if you tried.” She ripped open the seal on one of the patches. “Now, let’s take a look at your owies.”

Jaesa blushed again. “They are not owies, these are glorious battle scars,” she said, hardly believing the words coming from her mouth. 

Vette chuckled again. “And glorious they are, oh virulent Sith master,” she said dryly. “You’re going to have to take the top off if I’m going to deal with the wound on your back here. Did you roll on glass or try to swim in it?”

Shrugging out of the top and wincing, doing her best not to be self-conscious about her exposed breasts, Jaesa attempted to sound casual. “Well, you know, sometimes I’m just a little too good, you know? I had to give the other guys a fighting chance.”

“Oh, I see,” Vette said in amusement. “Levelling the playing field?”

“Absolutely. It’s not fair otherwise.”

“Mmhmm. And how’s that working out for you, oh powerful Sith?”

Jaesa hissed in a breath as she felt Vette prodding gently at the wound. “A little ill-advised on my part,” she said tightly, resisting the urge to bite down on her knuckle.

“Mm. You’ve got a bit of grit in there, probably from rolling all over the disgusting floor. This’ll hurt for a second.”

There was a sharp pain and Jaesa gulped down a startled gasp, abandoning her attempts to appear stalwart and biting into the knuckle on her thumb. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, a hiccup or two of pain managed to slip past her lips as Vette worked on the injury. Her fingers were gentle, but the work was not. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Vette said softly, her fingers brushing soothingly against her shoulder, “it’s done now. Patch is going on and you’re good.”

Jaesa shuddered, exhaustion beginning to leach into her limbs now that the evening was winding down. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Any more? Or were you lucky and that was the only one?”

Hesitantly, Jaesa lifted a hand to her left shoulder. The skin was smooth and shiny, and hot to the touch; it sent sharp little tendrils of fire into her flesh when she brushed over it. Wincing, she said “I got hit by a blaster once.” She looked down at her hand, where she’d batted away bolts as if they’d been as inconsequential as flies. “Well, a few times.”

“And your face looks like you went a few rounds with a Gamorrean hustler. Did you fight the _entire_ club while I was out of it, or just most of it?”

Jaesa smiled weakly. “Just most of it,” she said hoarsely.

Vette chuckled. “Alright then. Let’s have a look at the rest.”

She climbed to her feet and knelt in front of her; if it weren’t for the small grimace as she stood up, Jaesa would have thought the bacta had performed a miracle and healed her already. “You shouldn’t-”

“Don’t make me make you get up and dance, sweetheart,” Vette said instantly. 

Jaesa couldn’t help but smile. “Noted,” she said.

It was hard not to feel vulnerable, sitting topless in front of Vette while she tended to her wounds, but she commended herself on at least not blushing and stammering like a fool. Vette has gentle as she worked, but of course it still stung like mad; when she felt her eyes watering she blinked furiously to try and stop the tears from falling. 

“You can cry if you need to, sweetheart,” Vette said softly, glancing up at her from where she was laying the bacta patch against her shoulder. Her eyes were kind, her smile gentle. “You don’t need to be brave in here.”

Jaesa felt her lip trembling and clenched her teeth together, looking away quickly. “Why do you call me sweetheart?” she asked, wincing when she stammered over the first word. So much for commending herself. 

Vette’s fingers hesitated for a moment. “I call everyone by pet names,” she said lightly, after a moment’s pause. “I call Taunt sweetheart as well.”

“You’ve called me a few names.”

Again, she hesitated. “What can I say? You’re a sweet girl. It’s easy to call you sweet names.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jaesa swallowed back the responses that bubbled to her lips, and simply nodded. “Okay,” she said, ignoring the tremor in her voice. 

Vette hesitated for another long moment, then smiled brightly. “Lemme just get a look at that cut on your lip.”

She put some of the salve onto her fingertip, and dabbed softly at the corner of her mouth, eyes focussed intently on her lips. Jaesa felt her cheeks warming, and had to fight the urge to lick her lips. 

The Twi’lek glanced up at her. “You’re tense,” she said.

Jaesa giggled nervously. “Oh don’t mind me, I’m just… sorry you have to stare at my hairy lip.”

Vette smirked. “Oh, I hadn’t even noticed. Besides, it’s cute! Better than having no hair at all, right?”

“But you have eyebrows…?”

“Nope, look closer,” she said. “The eyebrows were tattooed on by one of my owners when I was a little girl. Said it made me look less freakish.”

“You don’t look freakish,” Jaesa said instantly, horrified at the thought of someone tattooing a child simply to make them look more appealing. “I think you look beautiful.”

Vette paused what she was doing and looked up at her. “That’s… kind of you to say,” she said, and something in her voice made Jaesa suspect she was disappointed. 

Something tightened in her chest, something dismal and unpleasant. “I’ve upset you,” she said, somewhat desperately. “I didn’t mean-”

“Of course you didn’t mean to, darling,” Vette said with false cheer. “I’m just never hugely fond of a reminder about my looks. I’m a Twi’lek- everybody loves Twi’leks.”

There was something nasty in the last few words, and Jaesa reached up unthinkingly and put her hand over Vette’s. “You _are_ beautiful,” she said wholeheartedly. “You’re beautiful as a Twi’lek and beautiful as a woman.”

Vette sighed shakily. “Please don’t, Jaesa.”

“Why not?” Jaesa said, a hint of anger slipping out despite her best intentions. “There’s nothing wrong with me being honest.”

“Yes, but you’re a _Sith_ ,” she said, something desperate in her eyes. “You are a powerful woman with an amazing gift and you’re going to go on to do amazing things. You can’t tell me that’s not the truth.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“A Sith doesn’t have a Twi’lek hanging around as… emotional baggage. A Sith doesn’t have anything that can be used as leverage.”

Jaesa looked at her disbelievingly. “I’m sorry, but I call bullshit on that. There are plenty of Sith Lords with families and friends and lovers, and their lives are no worse off for it.”

Vette climbed to her feet and turned her back on her, going over to the cleaning station beside the bacta tank and running her hands under the water. “You’re going to do so much, Jaesa,” she said quietly.

“I am,” Jaesa said simply, wondering what her point was. 

The water stopped. “You should tell me about it,” she said.

Jaesa hesitated. “I don’t understand.”

“Just…” Vette turned around again, her eyes sad. She leant back against the sink. “Humour me.”

She breathed out slowly. “Okay, well… I just want to do so much,” she said. “I want to see the galaxy and I want to help people and I want to use my gift in so many ways-”

Vette was smiling. “Of course you do,” she said fondly, sadly. “You’re a good kid.”

“But I want to do more than that,” Jaesa said quickly, going on. “I want to see the galaxy, and I want to get drunk and go dancing and get into fights and fall in love. Master Tahrin is right- the Jedi mindset is flawed. The galaxy isn’t a gentle place and sometimes you have to be standing in the deepest dark to be able to see the stars properly. I want to see the _stars_ , Vette, in all the glorious, violent, passionate wonder.” She paused, exhilaration running through her veins. “And stop calling me kid. We’re the same age.”

 _And I’m just as much a woman as you are_ , she finished silently. 

Vette’s smile had faded, and she looked away. “We are the same age,” she agreed. “And you’re gonna go on to great things. You’re not going to do that with a Twi’lek by your side.”

It was too much for Jaesa. She soared to her feet, crossing the small sick bay in two strides to stand before Vette. “I will make that journey with whoever I choose,” she said fiercely, taking both of her hands between hers. “And perhaps you shouldn’t be thinking so much about my future as you should about your own.”

Vette recoiled almost violently. “Is that some kind of threat?” she said incredulously.

“What?” Jaesa’s stomach dropped into her shoes. “Oh stars, no! No, no, no! Oh, I could have picked better words than that, oh… Vette, I’m so sorry.” 

She eyed her warily. “Yeah, you probably could have picked better words than that,” she said.

Jaesa took a deep breath. “I just meant… why should you consider it as me debasing myself to have a Twi’lek lover?” Her cheeks burned as she said the secret hope aloud, and she reached up hesitantly until her hand touched Vette’s face. Her fingers traced softly down the curve of her cheek, down her jaw to her mouth. “Why wouldn’t it be more important for you to trust a Sith with your life and your heart? As far as I’m concerned, that’s a much bigger consideration than wondering whether people will gossip about me at parties in Kaas City.”

Vette’s breathing was uneven, and her hand was resting on the bare skin of Jaesa’s hip. “I suppose I’m just not used to people thinking my feelings are much of a consideration,” she said carefully. Her eyes glanced down to Jaesa’s mouth for a fraction of a second.

Jaesa swallowed, fire simmering beneath her skin. “And I suppose I’m not used to making such offers,” she said, “so I apologise for doing it so clumsily.”

“It’s okay, I just…” She laughed. “This is so strange. Of all the people to stop and think my feelings are important, I never thought it would be a Sith.”

“You’ve just… you’ve seen so much,” she said quietly, following the path her fingers traced with her gaze. “You’ve survived so much. I don’t blame you for being suspicious, or reluctant. I don’t even know what someone like me could possibly offer to… someone like you.”

Vette was silent but for her breathing, the air occasionally hissing from her lips in a quiet gasp at the patterns Jaesa drew over her bare skin. She was quiet for so long that Jaesa began to feel panic nipping at her, and had to bite her lip to stop herself from begging her to speak. After what felt like an agonisingly long time, Vette drew in a deep breath. “You can do that mind reading trick, yeah?” she said finally.

Jaesa shook her head quickly, vehemently. “I don’t read minds. That’s not what I do. And even if I could, I wouldn’t-”

“I want you to.”

“It’s not right, Vette. You don’t have the same power over me, and I’ll never ever hold my power over you as an advantage. I won’t be just another master taking advantage of you.”

“And that’s all I need to read your mind,” Vette said softly, her hand coming up to cup Jaesa’s cheek. Jaesa leaned into the touch almost desperately, the warmth and the softness of her palm and the scent of her skin intoxicating. “That tells me more than any magic tricks ever could.”

And when Vette leaned in and kissed her, it was the sweetest thing she could have imagined.


	7. Chapter 7

The kiss was soft, tentative- gauging the heat of the passion between them, weighing up to what extent they were about to make a colossal mistake. Vette was giving her a chance to back off, to smile and laugh and decide it was all a silly mistake worthy of a story or two. 

Jaesa could not have wanted anything less. She was so dazed, so overwhelmed by the taste and the fire and the softness that she could not have pulled away if her life depended on it. She reached up with both hands, perhaps a little over eager, and cradled Vette’s face between them, kissing her as fiercely as she dared, holding her tightly as she leaned into her.

Vette chuckled, her lips twitching beneath hers as if in a smile, and slid her hand around her hip to the little dip in the hollow of her back, fingers tracing lazily until she was shivering from it. 

She could taste the bacta, the salve adding a strange tingling sensation to the kisses. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but the taste left something to be desired. Vette tasted so very intriguing- there was a hint of the alcohol from the club, tangy and sweet, and there was something that was obviously uniquely her, a gentle taste that for some reason made her think of home. It was like the scent on the wind when storms were due, the way her nose tingled when there was snow in the air. It was a wild taste, comforting and exhilarating all at once. 

When Vette broke away, the both of them gasping softly, she grinned fiercely. “You’re a good kisser,” she said.

“Really?” Jaesa said with surprise, panting for breath. “I’ve never done it before.”

“What, with another woman or never ever at all?”

“The latter.”

“Wow,” Vette said, brushing her nose against hers. “Glad I could put a stop to that then.”

She kissed her again, with a little more fervour than the first one. She tugged her closer, pressing her hand flat against the small of her back to pin them together. Jaesa gasped, and Vette took advantage of the lapse, sliding her tongue against her upper lip. She wasn’t expecting it, and the little cry she gave made Vette chuckle.

“Did you like that,” she murmured against her mouth, kissing her with every word.

“Yes,” she panted.

She nuzzled against the corner of her mouth. “Good.”

Vette kissed her fiercely, her hand sliding further down to cup her ass, squeezing firmly as she ran her tongue teasingly against her mouth, tempting her to open further to their play. Jaesa resisted for only a moment before she succumbed, passion and curiosity overriding any sort of skittishness on her part. 

“Did you like _that?_ ” This was more of a question than the first, and more smug.

Jaesa nodded vehemently. “Have you done this before? With a woman, I mean?”

“Yes- why do you ask?”

“Oh thank god one of us knows what we’re doing,” she said, leaning in and capturing her lips again. 

They kissed until Jaesa felt breathless, dizzy and euphoric in a way she’d never been before. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive; she felt as if there was a fire burning within her, raging so fiercely it was likely to reduce her to ashes in seconds. When Vette broke away from her she moaned, the moan trailing off onto a whimper as she ran her mouth along the edge of her jaw to the curve of her neck, lingering specifically on the place just below her ear. Jaesa arched against her, gasping, writhing at the onslaught of sensations. She felt the way Vette’s lips twitched, a smug smile, and then the torture continued as her lips trailed further down, along the top of her shoulder with open mouthed kisses that offered just a hint of teeth. 

“Vette,” she panted, and then stopped. She had no idea what exactly she was begging for, no idea what to ask for precisely and she suddenly felt rather silly. “I’m covered in blood,” she finished weakly.

Vette chuckled, hot breath fanning over her skin. “I am too,” she murmured, nuzzling at the little dip in her collarbone. “Yours, actually.”

For some reason that made it even worse. “Well we should… I mean… we probably-”

The Twi’lek pulled back, eyes bright with amusement, lips swollen from their kisses. She was so beautiful that for a moment Jaesa could only gape, amazed and aroused that she was here with her.

“Come with me,” Vette whispered, a smile on her lips.

She took Jaesa’s hand in hers and led her to the shower unit in the corner, brushing her fingers over the panel to open the glass and start the water. Steam began to rise quickly. “I hope you don’t mind, I like it hot,” Vette said, somewhat mischievously.

Jaesa could only shake her head numbly. “I… I don’t mind at all,” she said, somewhat stunned.

Her nerves were obviously impossible to hide because Vette’s expression softened and she leant forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Don’t be worried,” she whispered against her mouth. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Jaesa whispered back.

Vette still had her hand, and she led it to the buckles of her jacket, smiling as she whispered “Do it.”

Swallowing nervously, Jaesa fumbled with the straps and the zips, unused to the way everything was in the opposite direction. As she went slowly down the garment, Vette leant in close again and kissed her softly, lingering and slow, her hand tracing patterns on the bare skin of her hip as she did. She chuckled whenever Jaesa gasped, her fingers drifting a little higher each time. When they brushed against the underneath of her breast, the effect was electric. She couldn’t hold in the cry, couldn’t help but writhe as the fire came alive beneath her skin. 

“Vette!” she sobbed, crushing forward to pin her to the wall of the med bay, the shower ignored beside them as she all but devoured her mouth. With fumbling hands she managed to get the jacket opened finally, and when she slid her hands inside over the smooth skin of Vette’s stomach, she was rewarded with a similar cry from her lover. 

It was exhilarating. 

She gave her enough room to shuck the jacket from around her shoulders, and then tugged impatiently on the thin undershirt beneath it; Vette laughed at her haste, and graciously pulled it up over her head and tossed it away. She was so glorious- such vivid blue skin, all softness and curves and beauty. Jaesa felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight, overcome by her desire for this woman, overcome with the trust she showed her in taking her as a lover. 

She felt as if she were going to burst out of her skin. 

“Boots now,” Vette panted, dropping to her knees before Jaesa could stop her. She took one of her legs in her hands and pulled, urging her to lift it; she obliged, and Vette stripped the shoe from her foot in the blink of an eye. Thinking she would go straight to the other foot, she began to shift her weight, but Vette surprised her. Discarding the boot, Vette instead straightened and placed her mouth on Jaesa’s belly, placing hot and lingering kisses to the smooth skin there.

Jaesa moaned desperately, her hands going to Vette’s head; she didn’t know what she intended to do, and as Vette continued to tease and taunt with her tongue, she could do nothing but run her hands over the sleek curves of her lover’s lekku. To her surprise, Vette shuddered and arched against her, a delighted gasp breaking from her mouth. 

“You like that?” Jaesa said, ecstatic to find their positions reversed. 

“Boots off now,” Vette said firmly, reaching for the other foot. She had the shoe off in moments, and as she stood, she made short work of the buckles on Jaesa’s pants. 

“Your boots,” Jaesa started to say, but Vette was one step ahead of her. The Twi’lek had clever fingers, and she’d clearly loosened the straps ahead of time, because she kicked them clear across the room without even bending to untie them. There was a glorious, maddened scuffle as they struggled clear of their pants, Jaesa gasping as the air hit her bare skin, and then Vette was herding her backwards, into the shower and under the spray, pushing her up against the back of the little cell and kissing her fiercely.

It was indescribable. The way the steam filled the tiny cell, the way the water sluiced over her sensitized skin, the way their bodies entwined and slid and ground against one another… all she could think of was Vette, of touching her more, kissing her more, having more of this moment. 

When Vette’s hand slid down and over her stomach, she sobbed at the overload of sensations, her knees buckling when she touched her between her thighs, dipping her fingers into the soft heat until Jaesa was writhing and bucking helplessly. Remembering her reaction from earlier, she ran her hands over her lekku, fingers trailing teasingly over the curves. She was delighted to elicit an even better response than before, Vette gasping and arching against her. 

It became a game, to see who could make the other cry out, who could make the other collapse at the sheer onslaught of passion first. Jaesa could not keep still, her body alive with lust and desire and fire; Vette was no better, thrashing about and moaning desperately with each new trick that Jaesa tried. When she took one of the lekku and sucked the tip of it into her mouth, Vette shrieked, and the sheer force of her reaction tipped Jaesa past the breaking point as well. It was a violent, wonderful rush- her body exploding with sensations, her brain fleeing all rational territory in the face of such an onslaught. Vette kissed her so brutally that her lip began to bleed again, but neither of them paid it much heed. 

The feeling took a long time to dissipate, lingering softly and sending delicious little shivers through her. Their kisses slowed, gentle and exhausted, until they were both leaning against the wall, legs entwined, laughing softly as the water ran over them.

Jaesa giggled as she nuzzled at Vette’s nose. “Do you think Pierce heard?” she said.

“Without a doubt,” Vette said, nipping playfully at her. “Do you care?”

“If he says anything, I can hang him upside down from the ceiling with my mind.”

“I’d say we’re okay then,” she said with a grin.

They were silent a little while longer, catching their breath as the tension was soaked from their bones. Finally Jaesa stirred again. “Hey, Vette?”

“Yeah?”

She swallowed nervously. “Thank you,” she said hesitantly.

“What for? For the sex? Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that, the pleasure was all mine, trust me.”

“No, not the sex.” She hesitated again. “For taking a chance on me.”

Vette turned her head, meeting her gaze. She studied her face, her eyes growing serious. When she smiled, it lit up her whole being. “You are most welcome,” she said warmly.


End file.
